The Art of Seduction

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~ René ~

As the product of a cross species mating, I lived with a foot in two worlds, vampires and gryphons. I had very little patience for either of them. Learning that the prince of gryphons was my mate didn't make me happy, but I only got one mate. Giving him up wasn't possible, no matter how many others tried to keep us apart.

~ Alessandro ~

As prince of all the gryphons in Italy, I was used to getting my way. People did not say no to me, which made finding my contrary mate all that more intriguing. René had no problem telling me no or disobeying my orders. If I wanted to keep the sexy man—and I did—then I needed to learn how to seduce him over to my way of thinking. It would help if people would stop trying to kill us.

~ René ~

I zipped around some fancy black town car stopped in the middle of the road and then went up the driveway of the five-star hotel that was my destination. I pulled my Ducati motorcycle off to one side of the driveway when I reached the entrance and cut the engine. It was a Panigale V4 R with 83 lb-ft at 11,500 rpm.

It was a thing of beauty.

I pulled my helmet off and then climbed off my bike. The valet was practically drooling as I walked toward him. "Don't even think about it."

There was no way in hell I was letting some stranger ride my bike. Just wasn't going to happen.

I pulled a wad of cash out of my pocket and peeled off a hundred dollar bill. I tore it in half, giving the valet one half. "You get the other half if my bike is right there when I get out, untouched."

Hopefully, the guy's desire to make an easy hundred bucks was bigger than his desire to ride my bike.

"Yes, sir," the guy said.

We'd see.

I wasn't fazed by the strange looks I received as I strolled inside the fancy hotel. I was kind of used to them. I had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a slim swimmer’s body.

That wasn't what got me the strange looks. It was the faded jeans, black leather jacket, heavy-duty black biker boots, and the piercing in one eyebrow that usually did it. It freaked people out, especially those in the upper crust of high society.

Fuck if I cared.

I might occasionally bump shoulders with these people, but I didn't live with them, I wasn't in a relationship with any of them, and I seriously doubted a single one of them would be caught dead in the neighborhood I lived in.

So, their opinions didn't matter to me.

Granted, I wouldn't do anything that would embarrass my parents, but that didn't mean I had to get all nice and cozy with these people. Been there, done that. I'd grown up in high society.

Explained why I lived on the lower east side.

I grunted when I bumped into someone. Or more precisely, he bumped into me. He was talking on his phone and had plowed right into me.

"Watch where you're going," the man snapped before continuing on his way.

I so wanted to flip him off.

This was another reason why I didn't hobnob with the rich and famous. They were some of the most pretentious people I'd ever met.

Entitled. That was the word I wanted. They were spoiled rotten and felt the world owed them simply because they were breathing, and god forbid someone from my neighborhood breathe the same air. They just might have a stroke...or call a cop.

I rolled my eyes and headed for the reception desk. 

I had to wait in line behind two other people. One, a woman dressed in a two-piece cream-colored suit, holding a Pomeranian with a pink bow in its hair. 

The other person in line was a man in a dark suit. The woman was standing there quietly. The man, however, was snarling at the poor woman behind the reception desk.

"I reserved the presidential suite," he snapped. "I want the presidential suite."

"I'm sorry, sir," the young lady behind the counter said, "but your reservations were for a room with a king-sized bed, not the presidential suite."

"Then upgrade me to the damn presidential suite."

"I can't do that, sir. The presidential suite is already occupied."

I smirked, knowing exactly who was currently occupying the presidential suite. My parents expected the best and were not concerned with paying for it. It wasn't like staying here would put a dent in their bank account, no matter how long they stayed.

"Kick them out!" the man shouted.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do that."

"Look," the man said, lowering his voice, but not so low that I couldn't hear him. "Is it a matter of money? I can pay for the upgrade. I'm good for it. Just put it on my credit card."

The poor harried looking woman sighed. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't—"

"Look, you stupid little bitch, I want that suite."

"Sir—"

When the man raised his hand as if he was going to slap her, I'd had enough. Berating the poor girl because she couldn't accommodate him was bad enough. Hitting her was out of the question.

I leapt forward and grabbed his arm before it could connect. I twisted it until the man was forced to go to his knees or have his arm broken.

"Apologize to the nice lady."

Eyes wild and face paling by the second, the man stammered out, "I-I apologize."

I yanked him to his feet and then gave him a push toward the door. "Now go before you really piss me off."

The guy looked at me with total fear in his eyes. He rubbed his arm as he stumbled back, turned, and raced out of the hotel.

I smiled at the stunned woman behind the desk and walked over to get back in my spot in line. The older woman in line in front of me sent me a beaming smile.

I smiled back.

"Such a good boy," she said. "We need more young men like you in the world."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll be sure to let my mother know."

She'd be thrilled.

The older woman was quickly checked in and then it was my turn at the reception desk. The girl behind the counter still looked a little stunned. Her eyes were a little wider and her skin was pale.

"Thank you for...uh...that."

I sent her the same smile I'd given to the older woman. "It was no problem."

The girl swallowed hard before plastering a smile on her face. "How can I help you today?"

I almost smirked before saying, "Can you please let the presidential suite know that I've arrived. My name is René. They are expecting me."

Her eyes grew even rounder for a moment before she reached for the phone. She quickly conveyed my message. After she hung up, she gestured to one of the bellhops. 

"Louis can take you up, sir."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you."

I turned and nodded an acknowledgement to the bellhop before following him to the elevator. It would have been easier if I'd had a key to the presidential suite. I could have gone up on my own. However, this particular hotel required an escort to that floor if you weren't actually registered there.

The bellhop gave me a strange look as we entered the elevator. I wasn't sure what it meant, and frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to get upstairs so I could see my parents and relax.

I leaned back against the wall and waited for us to get up to the correct floor. When the elevator doors opened again, I nodded to the bellhop and then stepped off. The door to the presidential suite was right in front of me. I knocked simply because it was polite, but then I opened the door and stepped inside.

"René, darling."

I smiled for real this time, and then opened my arms for the stunning woman coming toward me. "Hello, Mother."

Antoinette Castellano was as beautiful now as she had been at twenty, which was a very, very long time ago. Her long black hair didn't have a single gray hair. Her face was free of wrinkles except for laugh lines at the corners of her dark eyes and they sparkled when she looked at me.

I was always happy to see my parents when they were in town, or when I flew to see them wherever they were around the world. I never went more than a couple of months without seeing them.

I adored my parents.

My mother hugged me tight before leaning back to look up at me. She reached up and pressed her hand against my cheek. "You look pale, darling. Have you been eating?"

"Yes, Mother, I've been eating."

Her brow fluttered.

"I'm fine, Mother. I promise."

My mother worried about me a lot, but she was my mother, and I knew it came from a place of caring, so I tried not to resent it too much.

I turned when I heard a throat clearing and then smiled when I saw my father standing there. If my mother was the perfect example of all that was beautiful in the world, my father was a prime example of everything masculine in the world.

Armando Castellano stood at nearly six foot three, a towering man with the muscles to back up his imposing figure. He did have a little gray around his temples, but it only added to his allure.

"Hello, Father."

I received a strong-armed hug from my father before he grabbed both of my biceps and held me back from him, his golden eyes roaming over every inch of my face. 

"Your mother is right. You are a bit pale."

I groaned as I let my head fall back on my shoulders. "Uncle Pierre, save me."

The amused chuckle from the man standing behind my father brought another smile to my face. Pierre had been a regular part of my life since a few years after I was born. He was an uncle to me, and the love of my father's very long life.

"I'm sure he is fine, Armando," Pierre said as he stepped up beside my father and wrapped a hand around my father's arm. "Artists are supposed to be angsty, remember?"

My father smiled and patted Pierre's hand. "You're right, of course, my love."

A sigh almost escaped my mouth at the love shining in my father's eyes as he stared down at his lover of twenty plus years, and the way he wrapped an arm around Pierre and pulled him closer as if he couldn't stand the separation one second longer.

The picture was made even more perfect when my mother walked over and stood next to them. While her gaze might not have been filled with the eternal love of my father's, it was filled with love and affection. 

"Are those new earrings, Mother?" I asked.

"Yes." My mother smiled as she touched her hand to the teardrop emeralds in her ears. "Pierre got them for me in a little shop in Ireland."

"They're beautiful."

A tinkle of laughter filled the air as my mother looked back at the arm Armando had wrapped around Pierre. "Well, he does have good taste."

He did.

I turned my attention to my father. "Tell me about this conference of yours. Anything interesting happening?" It was the whole reason my parents had flown into the city after all. 

My father grunted as he rolled his eyes. "It's going to be a tedious bore."

"The Prince is supposed to be in attendance," Pierre said.

A wrinkle furrowed between my eyebrows as I tried to remember who the current prince was. No one came immediately to mind, but I tended to avoid clan politics like the plague.

"If I remember my history correctly, there is one prince for every country."

My father nodded. "You remember correctly. Alessandro Vitali is the current prince of Italy. He's based out of Milan." 

Alessandro Vitali.

The name didn't ring any bells.

"I thought Prince Visconti was the prince of Italy."

"Prince Vitali is the prince of the gryphons in Italy, my dear," my mother added. "He holds no dominion over any others." There was a note of disdain in her voice. She was not impressed by all these titles. "Grand Prince Visconti still holds dominion over vampires in Italy."

It was a very thin line that my parents walked between vampires and gryphons. Due to the nature of their relationship, and because of me, they had to adhere to the laws of both species. It wasn't always easy.

"Is Prince Vitali new?" I asked.

"If twenty-five years can be considered new, then yes. Alessandro Vitali became prince right about the time you were born. It was the one time I missed a coronation ceremony." My father smiled as he glanced at my mother. "I wasn't about to miss the birth of my only child."

I chuckled. "Well, better you than me." 

I'd rather jump off the building than agree to attend one of those clan ceremonies, or a conference. My father was right. They were a tedious bore.

At least vampires knew how to party.

Granted, I had a few other reasons for not wanting to attend anything clan related, but those reasons were my cross to bear. My parents didn't need to know about them. They already had enough to deal with having a half-breed child.

I was unique in the paranormal world. Half gryphon and half vampire. I doubted there was another like me in the entire world, at least none that I had heard of. Cross species matings between paranormals just didn't happen.

Unless they did, and in my case, they did.

"We're having lunch out on the balcony, darling."

I held out my arm. "May I escort you, Mother?"

My mother's smile transformed her entire face, giving it a softer touch. "I'd be delighted, son." My mother looped her arm through mine and started walking toward the double doors leading out to the balcony.

As wife of an alpha gryphon, she'd had to learn to be tough. Luckily, my parents had been together long enough for most people to know not to underestimate her simply because she was a vampire. She could be just as vicious as my father, if not more so.

"There's a new cocktail lounge downtown that I am hoping to visit while we're in town. Pierre read an article about it, and it sounds divine. Would you like to accompany me?"

I could easily say no because I really didn't want to go, but this was my mother, and she was asking nicely. "When were you planning on going?"

"Well, the conference starts tomorrow, and you know I have to go mingle with the other alpha mates, so I was thinking this evening if you were free. Pierre and your father have plans to go out to dinner so it would be just you and I."

"I think I can arrange that." It would cut into my work time on my artwork, but again, this was my mother asking. I couldn't think of much I wouldn't do for her. "What time would you like to go?"

"Midnight?"

I smiled warmly. "Sounds perfect. I'll even dress up for you."

My mother lost her pearly white smile. "Darling—"

"I have these wonderful new leather pants I've been dying to try out."

Antoinette's lips twisted as she tried to hide her smile. "You do look good in leather."

I leaned down toward my mother and said in a conspiratorial voice, "Skintight, black leather."

My mother wagged her perfectly manicured eyebrows. "Even better."

And this would be one of the main factors in why I adored my parents. They accepted me just the way I was.